Just the Way You Are
by BloodiLoveli
Summary: Spain found an old photo album one day and decided to look through it. Just a little song fic based off the song Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars.


**AN: Hey guys! I was jsut aimlessly wondering aroung Youtube when I found this adorable SpainXRomano video and my inner fangirl screamed "WRITE! WRITE GOOD FLUFF! FLUFF GOOD" So, this thing is super fluffy, and alittle weird. Ya see, Spain is the one saying the lyrics, not actualy singing them. Sorry if it confusses anyone! Long Author's Note is long. Enjoy! Link to the video:/watch?v=vDZjOZ2plv0 **

Song: Just the way you are by Bruno Mars

"Normal speaking."

"**Song lyrics."**

"_Spain's flash-back-thingy_."

* * *

"Antonio!" Said man jumped, startled, and turned towards the voice calling him. Closing the photo album he was flipping through, he spied his good friend, France. Spain smiled to him as he was joined by the blond male on the well used cream colored sofa. France raised a trimmed eye brow at the book in his friend's hands.

"This," Spain asked, raising the book. France nodded asking,

"What is it?" A soft smile graced Spain's lips as he opened the album to the first page of pictures. France made a small 'ah' sound as he inspected the first picture. It was of both Spain and Romano, the older brunet holding a large wooden basket of tomatoes with a wide-eyed grin on his face. Standing in front of him was Romano, caught in the midst of biting into one of his favorite fruits, a questioning look on his face.

"That was taken by Feliciano, who ran away pretty fast after he took it, seeing as Lovino decided to throw a small fit," Spain said, humor in his voice. He ran a finger against the confused face his love was making in the photo. In a voice that was almost a whisper, he began speaking. To France? To himself? He didn't really know.

"**His eyes, his eyes, make the stars look like they're not shining. **They're always such a strange color. Brown, green, hazel? I'm not sure myself." France leaned back into the soft sofa, straining his neck to see another picture. The one he spied was of only Romano, his usual frown tugging at his lips. His eyes were sharp behind the silver rimmed glasses that Romano almost always refused to wear. His strange curl was as prominent as ever, defying gravity in a way hair, France was certain, was not supposed to.

"**His hair, his hair, falls perfectly without him trying. **Even with that cute curl," Spain smiled, finger tracing the spiral, " **He's so beautiful, and I tell him everyday. I know, I know, when I complement him, he wont believe me. It's so sad to think that he don't see what I see.**" Spain, with a sad sigh, flipped to a new page. This one held another image of Romano only. His face was flushed and his eyes cast down, away from the camera. On his black shirt sat the image of a plump red tomato. France couldn't help the small smile his face grew at this picture.

"**But every time he'd ask me 'Do I look ok?' I'd say...,**" Spain murmured, his words trailing off as he thought about their conversation only a few mornings back.

_Spain sat on his and Romano's shared bed, rubbing an eye sleepily with the back of his palm while he watched Romano scurry around the room with the other. He lifted the white covers that pooled around his waist to beckon the rapidly moving male back to bed._

_"Come now, Lovino. You don't have to leave so soon, do you," Spain asked, wanting desperately to have Romano back so they could sleep for just a little while longer. Said man looked over to the half-naked Spaniard and frowned._

_"I'd just love to go back to sleep right now, you bastard, but," he crossed his arms over his bear chest, "I have to go to this stupid meeting because my wimp of a brother caught a cold and can't go instead." Spain sighed, placing his elbow on his knee and resting his cheek on his open palm._

_Using his other arm, Spain crooked a finger, silently calling Romano to him. The smaller male walked up to Spain, his knees brushing the lip of the bed. Gentle, calloused hands languidly buttoned Romano's deep red shirt, slowly covering his abdomen. Romano, a blush staining his cheeks at the lazy smile on Spain's face, ran a hand through his messy hair._

_"Hey, Antonio?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Do I look ok?" Spain's fingers halted their movement for a moment as he rose to his knees. His emerald hues locked onto Romano's eyes._

_"You look amazing, Lovino. **When I see your face**," he cupped Romano's red cheek, "**There's not a thing that I would change.** Not even that ever present frown. **Because you're amazing, just the way you are.**" Romano's lips try to hold their frown but Spain was not blind to the upward twitch of his mouth._

_"**And when you smile**," Spain whispered, tracing his fingers against Romano's pink lips, "**The whole world stops and stares for a while, because, boy, you're amazing.**" Placing a feather light kiss against the Italian's lips, Spain whispered,_

_"**Just the way you are...**"_

France cleared his throat, waking Spain from his reminiscing. He flipped the page in the photo album again, France's eyes landing on another picture containing both Spain and Romano; Spain smiling like the fool he is and Romano glaring off in the distance with cheeks the color of red wine.

Spain trailed over his own lips with his fingers, thinking of Romano's. "**His lips, his lips, I could kiss them all day if he'd let me**," he murmured against his fingers. The next picture France saw was of Romano. His mouth was open while his eyes were closed, the expression all around joyous. Spain tapped the photo with his pointer finger.

"I took this one, on New Years. Ludwig got so drunk, remember," he questioned France, looking at him again finally. France nodded and chuckled.

"One would think he could handle his liquor better than he did."

"Yeah. Lovino thought it was hilarious when Ludwig fell on his face. Oh... **His laugh, his laugh, he hates it but I think it's so sexy. He's so beautiful, and I tell him everyday.**"

"Oi! Spanish Bastard! Why is that pervert's car h- Damn it! Get your dirty ass off my couch," Romano yelled from the doorway, shoes hanging in one hand and jacket dangling in the other.

Spain shot up from his seat, reaching out to embrace his lover. Romano, however, decided to side-step Spain to yell at France a little more. France, all too used to Romano's raised voice, quietly stood, walked to the door, and left. Romano, slightly confused by the silent departure of the French man, let his shouts die down and trail off, ending them with a questioning noise.

"Antonio...?"

"Yes, my love?"

"What was he doing here?" Spain opened his mouth to answer but stopped himself, snapping his mouth shut and tilting his head to the side. He had no idea why his friend had decided to stop by, Spain himself being to focused on the photos of him and Romano that he was examining.

"Not a clue, Lovino," Spain said with exuberance. Romano rolled his eyes at his ditzy lover and huffed.

"Food? I'm hungry and I don't feel like cooking. Let's go out." Spain all but squealed in excitement at the suggestion, having not been on a date with Romano in many months. Romano took the boarder line girlish squeak from his boyfriend as a yes. Shaking his head, he walked towards their room to change.

* * *

After almost an hour of passed time, Romano finally emerged from their room, hair damp from his shower. Spain was lounging on the sofa again, the photo album resting on his knee. He had came across an older picture of Romano, one from when he was younger. He wore a red hat with white ruffles surrounding it. His collar was high and trimmed in gold and it jutted out of a soft red cloak. He held in his hand the hilt of a sword that outdated himself by many years.

Upon hearing Romano re-enter the room, he turned around and showed the Italian the photo.

"You were so cute when you were my little henchman," Spain cooed. Romano huffed, feeling a little hurt by Spain's comment.

"What? So I'm not cute now? Not that I'm _cute._ Only ladies are cute and I am not a lady. I'm a ma-"

"Oh, Lovino," Spain interrupted, "You're very cute." He was replied with a tiny huff and the muttering of something that sounded like 'Not a lady'.

Spain stood from the sofa and walked casually around it, grabbing Romano's hand. He laced his fingers through Romano's auburn hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. Looking down at his love's face, Spain whispered,

"**You know, you know, you know, I'd never ask you to change.**" Romano frowned, confused. "**If perfect's what you're searching for, **my amazing Lovino, **then just stay the same.**" A blush promptly blossomed on Romano's cheeks as he turned his head and pushed Spain away. He twirled a finger nervously in his hair, a drop of water sliding down his finger.

Spain knew exactly what he was going to ask.

"**So, don't even bother asking if you look ok. You know I'll say...,**" Spain sang lightly, placing his warm palms on Romano's hips.

"**When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change.**" Guided by Spain's hands, Romano began to sway. "**And when you smile,**" the green eyed male placed an open-mouthed kiss in the lips of the man he was holding against him sweetly, making a small smile grace those lips, "**the whole world stops and stares for a while.**" Spain rested his forehead against Romano's.

"**Because, boy, you're amazing, just the way you are.**" Romano looked down demurely at his shoes, shuffling them against the carpet.

"You're such a cheesy bastard sometimes," Romano spoke in a hushed tone. They fell into a warm silence for some time until Romano's stomach decided to sing them the song of it's people.

"Do you want to go out for that food now," Asked Spain with mirth. Romano punched his arm lightly and walked to the door, grabbing his coat.

"Hurry up, Antonio!"

"Coming, Lovino!"

* * *

A groggy Spain groaned as the light peaking through the curtains licked at his eyelids, beckoning him to wake up. He cracked open his eyes and spied the back of Romano, who still slept soundly. After placing a small kiss on his love's shoulder, he slipped quietly from the bed and made a quick jaunt towards the kitchen to brew some Lavazza Super Crema for them to enjoy, once Romano finally decided to wake up. The coffee's magical sent wafted through the house, waking Romano quicker than anyway the tall Spaniard could ever be able to. He stumbled into the living room, spying the still-open photo album laying on the floor.

On the page before his was one singular picture of him and Spain. Flowers seemed to be flying through the air as Spain placed a kiss on Romano's cheek and Romano smiled wide. The Romano holding the album dragged his fingers over that smile and replaced his tired frown with the smallest of grins.

Spain walked into the room and stood behind Romano, handing him a cup full of the delicious smelling liquid. He placed his newly freed hand over the one of Romano's brushing the photo. He placed a kiss on Romano's neck and whispered lovingly into his hair,

"**Boy, you're amazing, just the way you are.**"


End file.
